


Fit for a King

by flameofarcana



Series: Royalty AU [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Improbable sex locations lol, M/M, Plot What Plot, Royalty AU, Sexual Content, Shiita Week 2016, Shisui is demanding and Itachi can't stop placating him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 08:29:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8279512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flameofarcana/pseuds/flameofarcana
Summary: Itachi's a king, Shisui's his right hand man and sworn protector--and maybe just a little something more. Shiita Week 2016, prompt 'touch'.





	

**Author's Note:**

> SO my girl hoshizorawarau created this AU wayyy back when where Itachi's heir to a royal throne and Shisui's an assassin set out to kill him. DRAMA happens but tl;dr they fall in love~
> 
> Sadly she left the fandom and never finished the story. BUT. This scene managed to survive through my gracious hands. 
> 
> I'm really bad at writing smut but :^) here we go.

Shisui approaches the guards with as much authority as he can channel, straight-spined and high-headed. Impatiently, he motions at the large, gold plated double doors, crusted with sapphires and onyx. He hails one of the doorman, expression serious. “I need to have a _private_ conversation with His Majesty.”

The doorman blinks, hesitating. “Sir?”

“It’s an urgent matter,” Shisui replies brusquely. “Once the Court is cleared, you will lock the door; I want the deadbolt set.”

“But, sir, the deadbolt? Is that really necessary?”

Shisui grabs the man by the front of his shirt, yanking him close. “Do I hear defiance in your voice? I _need_ to speak with the Our King at this very moment. _Lives_ could be at risk. Are you willing to take responsibility for so many innocent at stake? Are you willing to let this kingdom _crumble_ under our feet?”

“N-no, sir, of course not, sir,” the guard says, fumbling at the door lever.  

“Then deadbolt the door and see to it that no one enters until I have finished our conversation. Understand?”

The guard nods as the huge doors are opened, revealing a long carpet leading to the stairs at the foot of the throne. Shisui steps into the grand hall.

Itachi, sitting regally on the huge throne, glances over at the newcomer. He squints his eyes.

Suspicious. He didn’t summon Shisui; why would he be here? Sasuke, having been in deep conference with his brother, blinks over to the door.

Shisui lets a smirk twitch on his lips for only a second. He straightens his back, flaring his royal robe out to the side with a snap and striding forward. “Everybody out,” Shisui orders.

Itachi raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me? What is going on?”

Shisui keeps his gaze cold and stoic. “Everybody leave this room, at once. The King and I have an urgent discussion we must immediately attend to.”

Sasuke’s eyebrows furrow. “What? Is everything alright?”

“If Our Majesty chooses to disclose that information with you, that is his choice; everyone must leave, you included.”

Sasuke bristles, snapping his head up and glaring heatedly.

Itachi, curious to a degree, gently motions him away. “I consent. Everyone, dismissed. I will call you again if needed.”

Sasuke isn’t happy, and some of the scribes and servants are confused, but no one is willing to disobey the king. Soon the room is deserted.

As he hears the heavy doors whoosh closed behind him, a devilish smirk lights Shisui’s face.

“Shisui,” Itachi says, suspicion coloring his tone, “what is the meaning of this?”

The smirk doesn’t disappear. “As I said, Your Highness, an urgent matter.” He quickly strides, back straight with his usual pride, to the foot of the throne.

“You know, it is usually customary for those of _lower_ rank to _bow_ to their king.”

“Lower rank? Do you forget how often you’re under me?” His voice is cocky, his eyes glimmering. His smirk morphs into an arrogant grin.

Itachi’s eyes narrow. He’s glaring, now. “Shisui…” his voice lilts warningly.

Giving a dramatic sigh, Shisui swoops into a ridiculous low bow, one arm extending his flagrant red cape.

Itachi tilts his head, black hair sweeping passed his shoulder. “When I say bow, I mean on your knees _._ ”

“Oh? You want me on my knees for you?” Shisui replies, straightening quickly. He moves up the stairs swiftly. “We can try that along with it.”

“Along with what,” Itachi asks suspiciously, eyes narrowed.

Shisui slams his hand onto the arm rest, leaning in and trapping his lover against the back of the throne. Their faces inches apart, he breathes, “We need to have a _really_ _long_ and _hard_ talk, Your Grace.” He traces Itachi’s exquisite jawline, licking his lips.

Itachi stutters for a moment before a hard glare whips onto his face, anger flaring. “Are you—are you kidding, Shisui? You interrupted my entire court for your own animalistic needs? You think you have the power to do something so outrageous?”

Shisui flutters his fingers down Itachi's elegantly robed chest. "Power? Yes, I do believe that I have power. Power to make the Elegant Itachi,” he splays his fingers across Itachi’s shoulders as he says it, “ _scream._ ”

Itachi rolls his eyes, huffing. “You are unbelievably out of line.”

Shisui snickers. “Maybe a little.” He tries to press his fingers to Itachi’s face, but he snaps his head away. “Oh, love,” he croons, “don’t get shy now. There’s gonna be a lot more touching by the time this is over.”

Itachi's hands clench angrily over the armrest. "No, Shisui— _no._ This behavior is absolutely inappropriate and I will not stand for it. This is _my_ court, Shisui, and I will not let anyone, not even my lover, manipulate that from me."

"My King..." Shisui lets his hand rest heavily over Itachi's crotch. "My _King_...you mustn't forget your own primal instincts...." he purrs.

“I am not some kinky bastard that—“

“That what,” Shisui interrupts, making out the shape of Itachi’s dick under his robes. “That fucks you into the bed, wall, floor...throne?”

“Shisui that is _enough_!” Itachi snaps. “I cannot believe you cleared my summons, my own brother— _your_ _Crown Prince_ —for something like this!”

“‘Something like this,’” Shisui quotes, removing his hands. “I’m going to make this very good for you,” he sing songs. “I _promise_.” He starts to shirk up Itachi’s velvet robes, grinning when he gets to the drawstring of his trousers.

Itachi catches his hand. “I am _trying_ to run a Kingdom.”

Shisui blinks. “…and I am trying to touch your dick. What’s the point of this conversation?”

Itachi grits his teeth, tightening his grip on Shisui’s wrist. “If you are that sexually needy, you can escort yourself to the bedroom where you will _wait for me_.”

Shisui snickers.

“Do not laugh.” Itachi fidgets when Shisui gets his fingertips on skin, catches himself, and stiffens.

“Hm? Did that feel good, My Liege?” He asks, tugging against Itachi’s wrist, trying to get his hand free.

“Shisui….” Itachi’s voice is waning, now, his teeth grit.

“Oh _come_ now, Itachi,” Shisui croons. “You want this.”

“I absolutely do not.”

Shisui smirks, yanking his hand away from Itachi’s (weakening) grip entirely, feeling Itachi swell under his palm. He leans down and licks Itachi's lips, caressing his neck, pressing his thumbs into the dips by Itachi’s tendons. He keeps his pressure light, though, careful to not push Itachi too far. He won’t choke him—yet. He kisses him again when Itachi doesn’t protest. “Your lips taste like lies, My King....” he thumbs Itachi’s erection. “This is telling me a different story....”

Itachi’s glaring again. “I’m going to put you in prison for this.” It’s a laughably weak statement. Itachi has already started slumping in the seat, offering more of himself for Shisui to paw at.

“Been there, done that,” Shisui drawls, pressing open mouth kisses to his face. “The handcuffs, though….”

“Shisui, I’m going to—”

“Oh, just _shh_ for a second.” Shisui captures Itachi’s bottom lips between both of his. He bites a little, tugs gently, and pulls away with a smacking kiss. “Let me have some fun.”

“I let you have plenty of fun,” he snaps. He grabs Shisui’s wrist again.

“Then let your _self_ have some fun.” Shisui manages to free his wrist; his hand immediately slinks into Itachi’s pants and wraps around his dick. He snickers. “Look at you. You can’t pretend that this isn’t arousing you.”

Itachi’s cheeks flame. Fiery, just like his angry eyes. “Shisui, I’m _serious_.”

“You’re also _not_ stopping me,” Shisui cracks back, grinning. His hand drags up against the soft flesh. He rubs his thumb over the tip. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were enjoying this.”

“Good thing you know better,” Itachi sighs, shoulders relaxing, if only _barely_.

“You’re just so _stressed_ , My King,” Shisui purrs, leaning in. “Let me take care of you….” He licks his lips. “I’m already this far; you might as well just let finish. You know how good I am to you. I’m gonna make this so _good_ for you, love.”

Itachi drops his head against the padded seat of the throne. “I hate you,” he mutters.

“Is that acquiescence I hear?” Shisui grins, tightening his fingers, rubbing against the underside of Itachi’s dick, because he knows that’s how he likes it.  He keeps his movements slow, smooth. Itachi’s giving in—he didn’t actually think he would even get to touch Itachi’s body in the first place—and he knows he’s gotta really unravel him to get the whole show.

If he makes it good enough, Itachi may even give him a round two someday.

“If you wanted this so bad,” Itachi grits, eyes slipping closed, “you could have _asked_.”

“And you would have given it to me?” Shisui purrs, getting on his knees. He pushes Itachi’s robes off his legs, tugs at his trousers until they’re down his thighs.

Itachi rolls his eyes, puffing an impatient sigh. “You know you can get me to do things wildly against my normal inhibitions.” He glares down at Shisui, kneeling so graciously between his knees, hands on him like it’s the Holy Grail. “If you had _asked_ , you could have done this when I _wasn’t_ in the middle of discussing important economic systems.”

Shisui’s eyes are as wicked as his hands—and then, as wicked as his tongue as it laps at Itachi’s tip, slowly beading up the precum there and rolling it over his lips. “It’s hotter knowing that everyone is all worried and waiting outside.” He slips his lips over it, hums. Pulls off again—sees the twitch of Itachi’s eyebrow when he does. “Even hotter knowing you’re going to have to explain up some reason why we took so long when this is all over.”

Itachi raises an eyebrow. “You’re not giving me an excuse?”

Shisui, whose tongue has been rolling against Itachi’s dick, slips off with a pop. “Nope. Start thinking, Oh Brilliant King.” He dips his head back down, flattening his tongue and sucking in his cheeks. His head bobs a few times, slowly, savoring the feeling of skin in his mouth. When he feels Itachi’s fingers oh so reluctantly slip into his curly hair, he hums, pushes Itachi deeper into his throat.

Itachi shudders, and Shisui knows he has him.

“You are going to—pay for this,” Itachi groans quietly.

Shisui grins lazily, opening up his mouth. He lets his tongue drag up Itachi’s dick, eyes smoky and lips slick with spit. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you’ve never thought about this, never _wanted_ this.” He squeezes. Itachi twitches.

Itachi does look him in the eyes, and then Shisui is unable to stop himself from shoving Itachi back into his mouth just about as deep as he can manage. He rolls his tongue under the tip, against the frenulum, because he knows it gets Itachi to stiffen his thighs.

Right on cue, Itachi’s legs go rigid, and he huffs.

Shisui tugs Itachi’s foreskin down a little more, gives his shaft open mouth licks all the way around, gives Itachi a show he won’t forget.  Itachi’s thumb rubs circles against his temple as he goes back to sucking.

He’s fucking _hard_ , and he shoves his pants off his ass so his erection won’t hurt. He’s getting sloppier, but Itachi _loves it_ sloppy, loves the wet smacks and slurps. His eyes flick up when Itachi tugs at his curls.

“I’m,” he swallows, “I’m getting there.”

Shisui closes his eyes again, sucks more dedicated, pushes his head farther into Itachi’s crotch. He doesn’t even realize that he had a hand around his own cock until he goes to move it to Itachi’s balls.

Itachi coughs, flexing his fingers. Shisui knows the sound only came out because he is trying to hard not to make more preferable noises.

Itachi’s back goes stiff, and his thighs trap Shisui’s head so tightly he can’t bob his head. He’s about to come, so Shisui circles his fingers tight around the base of his dick.

“What the— _Shi_ —!” Itachi kicks his foot, yanks Shisui’s hair so hard he almost bites his dick. His hips push of the throne, fingers digging into the golden grooves of the armrest.

Shisui’s downright purring as he mouths around the tip, watching Itachi’s creased eyes relax a little as he flutters down from the frustrating tease of his non-orgasm.

“Why,” Itachi rasps, “would you do that.”

“Do what, My Liege?” Shisui presses his dick to his cheek, eyes just brimming with mirth.

“Go through all of that and not _finish_.”

Shisui blinks genuinely. “Itachi, do you think that this is all we’re doing?”

Itachi sink into his chair. Looks very, very overwhelmed. “Yes?”

Shisui tisks, getting up off his knees and dusting his pants. He hums, appraises Itachi, slumped in the ostentatious purple and gold throne. He first takes in the hazy, lusty look in his eyes. Then the way Itachi’s hands are gripping the armrest, the flexing chords of muscles he’s trying to control his movements through. Lastly he settles on Itachi’s dick, slick and red and swollen and—

“Oh, Itachi,” he says darkly. He grabs his forearm and yanks him up out of the throne. Itachi stumbles into him, one hand grabbing Shisui’s chest. They end up pressed together, Shisui’s hand fluttering up his back. “Oh, Itachi,” he says softly, leaning forward to press their foreheads together, nuzzling their noses together.

Itachi softens in his arms.

He’s caught off guard when Shisui spins them around abruptly. He collapses lasciviously into the throne.

“What are you doing?” Itachi asks, scandalized.

Shisui pauses. Considers. “You’re right.” He leans up, quick from his lifetime of assassin training, and snatches the sparkling crown right off Itachi’s pretty little head.

Itachi’s eyes almost pop out of his skull.

And, see, that was the nice thing about his dark past of murder and blood.

He could catch Itachi off guard. No one was as quick as Flicker, not even Itachi, skilled he might be.

“King for a day,” Shisui croons, adjusting the crown so it tilts lopsidedly on his mass of curls.

Itachi stares at him for a solid three seconds. Shisui actually gets nervous, because Itachi could order him out. Shisui wouldn’t _really_ defy him, not if Itachi was serious. And Itachi has that _look—_ that look that he’s considering if he actually is going to put up with Shisui’s bullshit for once.

But the _gods_ are smiling upon Shisui, because Itachi evidently gives him. His eyes go dark and fiery—it’s the look he gets when he snaps, the look he gives Shisui that says _who’s really in charge here_?—and takes a step for the throne.

Shisui actually gets a little nervous, because the things that Itachi has done to him when he gets _that_ look—but, now, that’s not how it’s going to go, not today.

He puts on hand on Shisui’s knee, pushes it to the side, spreads him open.

He’s trying to climb into Shisui’s lap when he is roughly shoved off.

He blink, balks, stares at Shisui like he’s a mad man. “Excuse me?”

“Strip.”

Itachi stares. “I _beg_ your pardon.”

“Oh, you’ll beg alright,” he mutters. That cocky smirk again. Shisui slumps nice and comfortable in the chair. He spreads his legs out, dick poking up the fabric of his pants. “ _Strip_ , Oh Honorable King.” He waves a hand. “Give me a show.”

Itachi’s eyes narrow. He crosses his arms. “You are—utterly pushing it.”

Shisui grins. “Okay, okay. I’ll be good. But—I’m serious about the stripping thing.”

Itachi grits his teeth. Considers, _again_ , and Shisui really thinks that he fucked up this time, ruined his perfect plan.

But Itachi relents, _again_ , nimble fingers undoing the silken cravat tied around his neck. He lets it flutter to the floor. The sash around his waist follows suit. He moves next to the button on his sleeves, letting the soft fabric billow about his thin wrists. He works on the clamps down his shirt _slowly_ , taking his time with each one. He watches Shisui go from pressing his lips together, to gritting his teeth, to biting and licking his lips as more of Itachi’s skin is revealed to him. Itachi shrugs the shirt off his shoulders from under the cape, feels it drag against his back. His skin goosebumps as his fingers slip to his pants.

He lets his thumb trace the curve of his hipbone, if for nothing but to hear the shake in Shisui’s breath. His eyes stay trained on undoing his pants, slowly, of course. He pulls out the drawstring, shirks them down his thighs. They get caught on the top of his boots. He squats down to unlace them, toes them off, and nudges them away with his foot. His hands are on the band of his undergarments when he looks back up.

Shisui’s legs are spread lewdly, pressed as far apart as possible. His head is tilted up and to the side, crown only on his head by the grace of his thick curls, jawline sharp enough to cut meat. One hand is on the arm rest, fingers digging against the crusted purple fluorite. His other hand is stroking his cock, jutting up rudely through his unraveled pants.

Itachi raises an eyebrow.

Shisui grunts, squeezing the base of his shaft. “Come on, keep going.”

Itachi slips off his underwear, tosses it up with his foot, catches it lithely, and throws it in Shisui’s face

Shisui does not mind a bit. He buries his nose in it, presses the soft linen to his cheek. He tugs his foreskin down, thumbs the exposed, shiny tip of his cock, hand moving languidly.

“You are repulsive,” Itachi says offhandedly, fingers tugging at the tie to his velvet cape.

“No—” Shisui reaches one hand out abruptly, stilling his previous movements. “Leave the robe on.”

Itachi tilts his head.

“Just—leave it on. I like the…implications it sends.”

Itachi scoffs gently. Nevertheless, he leaves it draped over his shoulders and flowing down his back as he climbs onto Shisui’s lap, straddling his legs.

Shisui’s hands cup the curves of his ass, licking his lips predatorily. He squeezes and skirts Itachi forward until he can feel his dick against his. “That’s how I like it,” he murmurs. He digs around in the folds of his pants, brow furrowing, until he is able to produce a little vial of oil. He presses it against Itachi’s mouth until he takes it between his teeth for temporary safe keeping. He finishes kicking his pants off, gets his underclothes down to his knees before cursing and reaching forward to shove those off as well. His shirt comes off easier—two of the buttons pop in his haste, but the Royal Tailor is amazing—and that leaves him adorned with only the emerald necklace Itachi gifted him when he became Captain and Commander of the Royal Guard.

Shisui takes the vial from Itachi’s teeth and replaces it with his fingers. He pushes them in deep with a ‘suck, Pretty King,’ leaves Itachi to it as he pops the cork of the glass bottle and drizzles the oil between them.

It makes for a much softer movement when he slides them together.

He presses his fingers against the soft of Itachi’s tongue. Itachi bites him a little too hard, but it only makes Shisui feel hotter. He slips out of Itachi’s mouth, across his slipper lips, and drags his saliva down his own chin.

Shisui paws at the leather tie holding Itachi’s hair together. He loves Itachi’s hair, he _loves_ Itachi’s hair. He gets it free, loose and black like a curtain around his neck.

Itachi buries his face into Shisui’s neck. He kisses at his collarbone, licks the whole hollow of his throat like a lollypop, and bites him right under his chin. _Hard_. He starts to rock his hips, providing some movement between them because he _needs_ some friction. He kisses him, softly at first. It gets heavier, his tongue slipping out to lick at his lips. He gets distracted by the kissing, gets lost in the feeling of Shisui’s fingers on his dick, the feeling of Shisui’s flesh against his.

Shisui keeps jerking them, pressed tight together, hot and slippery and _good_ , so good that he almost forgets what he wanted to do next.

Luckily for both of them, he doesn’t forget.

It takes him several reluctant seconds to pry the hand clutching Itachi’s jaw away. He also lets go of Itachi’s dick, which gets him a harsh flick to his ribs and a low whine of protest.

“Now look who wants it,” Shisui chuckles. His hands relocate to Itachi’s hair, black like ink and smooth like silk. It was his doing, anyway; he was the one that rubbed cream and royal perfumes into it every night.  He pulls out the leather hair band, holding in the groan when he feels Itachi’s hair slick around his hand. “I’m gonna fuck your hair next,” he mutters offhandedly, tugging.

“What are you gonna fuck now?” Itachi asks, enticing. He licks the crease of Shisui’s lip.

“What do you think? Mm, no—what do you _want?”_ He traces a feather light finger down Itachi’s spine, following each dip of his vertebrae. By the time he gets to Itachi’s tailbone, his soft skin is textured with goosebumps.

“Do not antagonize me,” Itachi says coarsely, biting Shisui’s jawline.

“Forgive me, Honorable Ruler.” He kisses Itachi again, soft lips and slick spit and warm tongues. “Oh, your Highness..." He breathes, tugging Itachi’s hair. “Your _Majesty,_ ” he moans. "My King, My Grace, My Lord, My Liege….” He pulls back and presses his forehead hard against Itachi's. "I am going to take you on your own throne."

Itachi’s eyes are so black and deep Shisui can’t breathe. “How long did you practice that line?”

“Only the entire way up here.”

Shisui’s slick finger teases Itachi’s ass. He slips the tip of his finger inside, just enough until Itachi lets out a breath. He slides it in completely, gets Itachi used to it, and adds another one, then another. Itachi has his head lolled to the side (he’s still rocking his hips and fumbling their cocks together sloppily) and leans forward for kisses once Shisui presses at his prostate (he’s seeing sparks, now, and wants Shisui’s body _closer. Closer_ ).

Shisui slaps his ass, rakes his nails across the pale skin. He slides a little down in the throne, gives Itachi some more room, and tugs him (gently) forward by the cock. Itachi gets up on his knees, braces himself on Shisui’s shoulders and, when he feels the tip of Shisui’s dick nudge between his ass cheeks, sinks down.

Shisui groans out loud. It echoes lewdly off the marble hall walls.

And so, with his crown glittering out of place in Shisui’s wild hair and his purple cape of velvet pooling around him, Itachi rides him.

It’s only a little awkward getting the position right at the beginning. Itachi has to adjust his legs, squeezed tight against the sides of the throne, as he rolls his hips. He starts to bounce up and down, face bunched up in frustration, because he was trying to get the _one_ spot to spark.

“It’s so hot when you work for it,” Shisui breathes. He rubs his thumb under both ridges of Itachi’s iliac crests. “This is the hottest fucking thing we have ever done.”

Itachi huffs, grabbing a fistful of Shisui’s hair and yanking. Shisui groans. Shisui’s cock shoves up against his prostate, and Itachi rolls his head back, repeating the motion.

“That good, Your Highness?” He thrusts his hips up, uses his leverage on Itachi’s hips to shove him back down. “Harder, love?” He leans his head against the back of the throne. “Go harder, love, just a little—”

Itachi complies, and this time Shisui’s groan is lost in the slapping sound of Itachi’s ass hitting his thighs. Shisui gets his wits about him and reaches up to take hold of Itachi’s throat. He squeezes his fingers tight—Itachi’s eyes are too full of pleasure to glare, at this point—and digs his thumb against his artery.

Itachi arches his neck and back. Shisui stares, eyes half lidded and mouth open as hot breaths puff harshly passes his swollen lips.

"The guards are just outside, Itachi...they're all—they're all probably—" he breaks off with a moan as Itachi throws himself down particularly hard, "they're all probably...worried as to why I called this." He lets go of Itachi’s throat (and revels in the gasp Itachi takes in) in favor of licking it, flexing his fingers around his hips. Itachi grunts and begins to rock on Shisui's lap, drawing things out a little. "What if they came in here and—ah—saw you like this...fucking yourself on me like _this_...."

Itachi's eyes focus through his haze (it’s just so good, Shisui makes him feel so good, especially when his dick rubs against _that_ when he rocks). He lets his head fall forward, eyes glazed. Hair sticks to his sweaty neck. “You would never—let them see what's only yours, would you?” He says as he lifts himself up again.

Shisui growls and yanks Itachi forward into a kiss. "Damn fucking straight." And he slams Itachi hard onto his lap again. "Mine."

Itachi stiffens and hisses, dragging his fingers into Shisui’s shoulder until angry red lines streak down his milky skin.

Shisui fucks up with his hips, deciding that truly nothing felt better than Itachi’s lithe body in his arms, sitting on his dick. “You’re mine, Itachi,” he murmurs dangerously.

Itachi glowers through the lust clouding his eyes, still faithfully riding Shisui. “I’m not an object, you possessive bitch.”

Shisui smirks at the language Itachi only dons in the bedroom…or throne room, apparently. “I know.”

“You don’t own me.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Itachi finds it in him to roll his eyes. “If I’m _yours_ , start making me feel good. You’re being so lazy.”

“Just enjoying the show.” Shisui thrusts his hips up in time with Itachi’s movements, fingers grabbing onto him.

Itachi shudders the second Shisui gets his fingers wrapped around him.

“Want to end so soon, Your Highness?”

“Stop—stop talking for two minutes,” Itachi mutters. “Do something better with your mouth.”

Shisui does. He presses kisses against any skin he can get—jawline, cheek, chin, neck, shoulder—and slides one hand across Itachi’s ribs, tracing each swell and dip with his thumb, feeling the expansion when Itachi breathes, feeling the stretch of his skin as he rides.

Every part of Shisui’s body is singing. There’s heat and movement and the damn most _incredible_ person in the world—and what more could he ask, what more could he want, especially when Itachi’s nose nudges his chin up and his lips dive in for more kisses.

There’s just something about it that Shisui can’t get over. The most respected, powerful, _beautiful_ man in the entire kingdom—his. His to love and cherish and protect. His to confide in and confess. His to fuck into sweet satisfaction.

“Shisui,” Itachi mumbles, movements stuttering. “Shisui, I—”

“Oh, My King,” Shisui breathes, one hand on his dick, the other on his face. “Come for me, beautiful. Come for _me_.”

Itachi grinds his forehead against Shisui’s. His movements stutter, so Shisui thrusts his hips up, his hips burning in so many good ways.

“Shit, fuck,” Itachi bites, fingers digging _hard_ into Shisui’s shoulder. “Ah, Shisui, ah—!”

Shisui shudders, feels himself climb higher and higher. “Just a little harder, just a little more,” he grunts squeezing his eyes shut and grinding his head against the impossibly soft cushion of the throne. “Ride just a little harder, love, just a little—” It’s only a few more seconds before Shisui’s muscles are locking and he’s groaning and—“Itachi, Itachi, _fuck_.”

Itachi only gives him a few seconds of post-coital bliss before he’s slapping at his shoulder. “ _Shisui_ ,” he groans.

“Right, right,” Shisui mumbles, fumbling his hands forward and grabbing Itachi’s cock. He finishes him quickly—Itachi’s rocking in his lap, bouncing only a little, leaving clawmarks down Shisui’s chest.

He’s still buzzing with pleasure when Itachi comes, slumping forward and burying his face into Shisui’s neck. His breath shudders against his skin.

“I love you,” Shisui mumbles, staring at the grand ceiling.

Itachi only nuzzles into the crook of his neck.

They stay like that for a few minutes, cooling down and letting the sweat dry from their skin. Shisui runs butterfly touches up Itachi’s back and arms, kissing his hair intermittently.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Itachi asks eventually, breathing evening out.

Shisui grins hazily. “I quite did; thanks for asking.” He kisses at Itachi’s chin. “Look at you, acting all considerate,” he purrs.

“I only asked since you won’t be touching me for the next fortnight.”

Shisui’s brow crumples. “You don’t mean that.”

“I rather do.”

“But, _Itachi_ —”

“You are not,” Itachi interrupts, raising an incredulous eyebrow, “complaining. You got away with _murder_ today, Shisui.”

“Okay, but—!” Shisui groans, letting his head fall back. “You always protest to my ideas, but then you love them _so much_. You were nervous about me choking you at first but now you turn into an absolute—”

“Watch it,” Itachi murmurs dangerously.

Shisui purses his lips. “You’ve come around.”

“Perhaps you’ve won me over in a few ways,” Itachi concedes lightly, “but that does not mean that your _ideas_ are at all appropriate.”

“But you _love them_.”

“Do I?”

“Uh— _yes_.” Shisui pushes hair out of Itachi’s face. “Remember when I fucked you raw on your bed covered in raw white-opals and diamonds? ‘Member when I tied you up in your gold-weaved satin and ate you out until you came?” He chuckles. “Or when you rode me in your marble bathhouse and I kept sliding all over the lightning-black opal tiles, and you fucked yourself on me dizzy trying to keep up?”

“Yes, Shisui, I get it. You’re a gold-digger who likes getting me naked in expensive places.”

“I like treating you like a King, My _King_.” He kisses Itachi’s eyelids. “We have fun together.”

“Hmm.” Itachi blinks steadily for a few seconds, thick eyelashes fluttering against his skin. “We do.”

Shisui grins and waggles his eyebrows.

Itachi cups both Shisui’s cheeks with his hands. He kisses him, slow and soft and sweet. One of his thumbs strokes his cheekbone. “The things I do for you,” he murmurs.

Shisui grins. “It’s a good thing I’m so pretty.”

A chuckle. “Good thing.” Another kiss. “You need to give me an excuse to why you called this meeting.”

Shisui whines, arms winding around Itachi’s waist and pulling him into his chest. “Just tell them it’s confidential? I don’t know, love.”

Itachi kisses his neck. “If you would like to have sex with me again in the next year, I would recommend giving me a reason.”

Shisui whines more loudly. “Why do you have to threaten me like that? We just went over this.”  

“My like or dislike of the transpired events does not change the fact that this,” he gestures vaguely behind him to the crumples clothes on the floor, “is your fault.”

Shisui groans. He closes his eyes and thinks for a moment. “…the guilds.”

“What about them?”

“Well, I actually _have_ heard noise of guild skirmishes. No lives have been lost, yet, but there have been instances of petty, drunken sparing….”

Itachi frowns, slipping off Shisui’s lap (and slapping away the grabby hands that follow). “And that is a reason for all this dramatic fanfare you pulled?” He retrieves Shisui’s underwear and uses it to clean himself up as thoroughly as possible.

“I mean,” Shisui flounders, “just be vague!”

“Hm.”

Shisui starts to look sheepish as Itachi wipes come off his stomach. “Sorry?”

Itachi sighs, dropping the underwear in his lap. He elegantly redresses, picking at the creases of his clothes and shifting the fabric until he looks as pristine as when he first dressed in the morning.

Shisui looks disheveled despite his best efforts, and Itachi takes the liberty to make him look less…ravaged.

“When you spring this on me again,” Itachi begins, combing his finger through Shisui’s hair, “please at least provide the common courtesy of thinking of an excuse beforehand.”

Shisui’s face lights up slowly. “Again? You’re saying there’s a next time?”

Itachi looks at him dryly. “It’s you, Shisui. Of course there’s a next time.”

Shisui grins. Well, if Itachi was being so lenient….

He has an idea or two left.  

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> lmfao
> 
> Shisui definitely has a kink for calling Itachi by his high names (your highness, my king, my liege, etc)
> 
> if you have questions about the au you can ask and I'll answer!
> 
> I LOVE COMMENTS and they really cheer me up so feel free to leave them alllll!
> 
> Thank you for stopping by! You can check out my other stuff or stop by again later~


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